


Cologne and Smoke

by withinyourselfinstead



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Blood and Torture, Burnplay, Fictional Depictions of Gang Life, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Praise Kink, which gets resolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:49:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withinyourselfinstead/pseuds/withinyourselfinstead
Summary: “Haven’t we treated you well, Chan-ah? We gave you a home, clothed and fed you. You have brothers now. A purpose in life. Why did you disobey us?” Yuchan shook his head vigorously with the last of his energy, despite how it made him want to puke.“I didn’t mean to, I was wrong. I’m … I’m sorry.” He could only whisper, pleading and crying. He felt the pain of betraying Byeongkwan, Junhee, Donghun and Sehyoon. It tasted like blood and salt and burned like fire.
Relationships: Kang Yuchan | Chan/Kim Sehyoon | Wow
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	Cologne and Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Rene for helping dig me out of dubcon hell - and for being a mentor in all things.

Yuchan sipped idly at his whiskey, the warmth of his drunkenness mixing with the heat radiating from the cut on his cheek. He winced with each movement of his face, the skin pulling on the edges of the tear there, but the pain was slowly bleeding away.

The blaring of whatever trash TV they played at 1AM in the bar was interspersed with the sound of footfalls, the crack of cheekbones against his bruised knuckles, a gunshot. Yuchan tried to shake off the memories from the past hour. After all, it would only be a matter of time until they found him.

And just like that, he felt the shadow of someone behind him, the movement of air across the hairs of his neck.

“Let’s go,” Byeongkwan commanded, low and brusque. 

Yuchan made a show of finishing his drink before turning around in his seat slowly, like it was an afterthought. He grinned wide.

“Hyung! What’s the rush? I’m just enjoying my drink here,” he gestured whimsically behind him, “and it’s not like we have anywhere we need to be on this lovely Thursday - “

He was cut off by Byeongkwan’s arm whipping around his shoulder, throwing him off the seat and onto the ground. Yuchan landed on his knees and felt the sharp heel of Byeongkwan’s boot dig into the meat of his lower back, forcing him into the floor. 

Yuchan groaned, looking back behind his shoulder. Byeongkwan was glaring at the bartender, and Yuchan imagined the poor guy whipping around, pretending he hadn't seen anything.

The customers and staff all recognized a dispute between kkangpae when they saw one, what with Byeongkwan dressed in his usual suit jacket and tie. Yuchan to them just looked like another run-of-the-mill pup they must not have properly trained yet. 

Byeongkwan whipped his head back to glare at Yuchan and bare his teeth. If he didn’t know Byeongkwan, he would find it funny, but it was the fact he knew he never made a show of getting riled up that scared Yuchan out of his wits. 

Still, his instinct was to laugh.

“Get up!” Byeongkwan barked, interrupting his pained giggling.

Yuchan shuffled forward onto his knees before slowly getting up. Byeongkwan gave him a rough shove, Yuchan having to catch the doorframe on his way out to avoid tripping again. 

He didn't feel anything, not the fresh cut on his face nor the bruise in his back from Byeongkwan’s boot. The adrenaline coursed through him, fast and dizzying. Junhee leaned against the side of the car outside, and Yuchan’s stomach dropped.

Nobody had looked after Yuchan more than Junhee had. His first few months as a fresh recruit, Junhee had taken him in like an older brother. And Yuchan had failed him.

Junhee opened the back door without making eye contact, and that made it all the worse. Byeongkwan shoved him inside, hard enough that he splayed across the seat and banged against the opposite door. Byeongkwan slammed the door behind him. 

Yuchan wondered briefly if he should make the effort of running, but he knew it was useless. The beating when (not if) he was caught would be much worse, and it wasn't as if he had any other options. A guy like him - no family, money, or potential in the outside world - was as good as dead. 

He would rather they kill him than force him to go back to that life of petty thievery, fast and dirty highs in public bathrooms, drunken bar and street fights, and homelessness.

Junhee got into the driver’s seat, Byeongkwan in front with him. Yuchan watched as the road slinked by, suddenly feeling very small. 

He laughed, the only thing he could remember how to do, and the sound was foreign and insane in his ears.

“You fucked up big time, Chan.” Byeongkwan’s voice was loud, hinging on desperate. But, Yuchan could deal with anger, that familiar heat, and he relaxed a little.

“You don’t think I know?” 

He was met with silence. Junhee glanced up into the rearview mirror.

“You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days.” 

Yuchan watched the streetlamps dance by before scowling back at Junhee in the mirror.

“Why the fuck would I care?” Byeongkwan huffed at that, and Yuchan could hear his fists clench against the fabric of his tailored pants.

“Do you even know what happened?! Those guys were stalking me. It’s not my fault if some gang war starts because some idiots - “

“It doesn’t matter who started it or why!” Junhee yelled, and Yuchan jumped. 

Byeongkwan turned back to look at Yuchan.

“You killed him, Chan. They’re gonna come for you, and they’re gonna come for us. That was all the excuse they needed, and it’s all because you couldn’t lay low! You just have to go out, picking fights - “

“I wasn’t picking a fight! They tailed me - “

“You know, we tried to protect you! You’re a good kid when you know your place. We tried to help you. But, “ Byeongkwan threw his hands up into the air, “it’s out of our hands now. I have no idea what hyungnim is gonna do to you.” Yuchan wanted to roll his eyes at the threat, as if he would be able to tamp down his fear if he kept playing the role of an unruly teenager hard enough.

Junhee pulled the car into the underground garage of an office building, one of their hideouts. Yuchan gout out of the car and wondered what they were going to do to him. 

If he would ever be able to walk again. To breathe the night air again.

Byeongkwan gestured for Yuchan to walk towards the elevator himself. The door guard, another dog, said nothing to them.

It was a quick ride to the top, the elevator doors opening onto an empty, dark hallway. There was enough light from the streetlamps outside for them to make their way to the lone door in the middle of the hall. Junhee reached out, stepping inside first before Yuchan, with Byeongkwan right behind him.

They bowed, though Yuchan’s was a mockery of deference. It was even darker inside the office than in the hallway, and Yuchan could only wait for his eyes to adjust.

The orange glow of Donghun’s cigarette lit up his face, warm and golden. It was hard to see, but Yuchan recognized his characteristic expression. Always pensive. 

Yuchan stared back at him, and realized he was seated on the large desk in the center of the room. Someone was behind him in the leather office chair, their face reflecting the dim, blue light of a laptop screen. Yuchan inhaled deeply, trying to steel himself.

“You two can wait outside,” Donghun said in between puffs. 

Byeongkwan and Junhee took their leave, Yuchan not bothering to see what looks they give him. He was already sure it was the same way the living look at the dead.

Yuchan stood there a few feet in front of the desk, but nothing happened. Donghun continued to smoke, and he could feel his eyes studying him through the dark. 

It’s not like the boss’ right-hand man ever spoke much to him. The low-level crones only ever took direction from their senior brothers, who looked after them and partnered with them on jobs. 

They had a hierarchy among themselves that Yuchan had only still been familiarizing himself with. Junhee, who was older, had ranked a bit higher than Byeongkwan, who had only started a year before Yuchan had.

Donghun was distant - a foreboding, quiet figure. He and Junhee seemed very close, trading pleasant chatter and a few laughs, and it was abundantly clear the older man reserved those things for Junhee alone. 

Yuchan briefly wondered if their friendship might lessen his pain at all, before stopping himself. He almost scoffed at the idea. He was pretty sure Junhee could kill him if they ordered him to. The same went for Byeongkwan.

Yuchan looked down, unable to withstand Donghun’s gaze any longer. He heard the laptop on the desk shut and couldn’t help flinching. 

Yuchan braved a look up and watched as his hyungnim leaned back in his chair, taking off his glasses and bringing a hand up to rub at his forehead.

“So, are we gonna get started or what?” Yuchan didn’t know what took hold of his tongue sometimes, but it almost never benefited him.

Donghun didn’t react. The man behind him chuckled.

“You do have a mouth on you, huh?” Sehyoon asked. 

A cold shock ran through Yuchan, pooling in the bottom of his stomach. Suddenly, he was falling through the floor, drowning in fear.

This was Kim Sehyoon, a self-made hyungnim at 27. Byeongkwan had told Yuchan they revered him for always putting family first, but Yuchan couldn’t understand why everyone went silent and kept their distance whenever Sehyoon was around. That was, until Sehyoon had killed another dongsaeng like Yuchan right in the office in front of him.

It had been a nightmare of a week, everyone scrambling to pick up the pieces after a deal gone wrong. Their group had been propositioned to serve as the middleman for newly landed drug smugglers wanting to get their product onto the street. The mules in question suddenly complained they could get better numbers elsewhere, and Sehyoon’s reps had been ambushed by them and a rival gang at the docks. 

Sehyoon was furious. Until he found out it was all chalked up to one of the kids divulging a little bit too much information during his weekly trips to a brothel he didn’t realize was controlled by the rival group. Then, the solution became clear.

Yuchan didn’t sleep for two days after, the image of blood spraying against the tile floor conjured up every time he closed his eyes. Murder in cold blood, he could stomach. Being killed by a hyung, he could not.

He wanted to be loyal, had tried to, but he had fucked up. He couldn’t hold back when other rats off the street wanted to pick a fight with him. 

He just hadn’t planned for them to actually try to kill him. The other kid had been too nervous. Yuchan had caught him off guard with a right to his face and had scrambled for the gun as it clattered to the ground in the alleyway. Spooked and outraged that they really thought they could off him, he had pulled the trigger himself. 

The weight of what he had done caught up with him four blocks down, the gun thrown down a storm drain, his heart threatening to leap out of his chest.

He had walked the rest of the way to the bar from there.

Sehyoon replaced the glasses on his face, the wire rims lighting up in the moonlight. A small smile played on his face, a deceivingly soft expression that did nothing to slow Yuchan’s heart. Donghun stayed silent, his eyes cast downwards once Sehyoon had started talking.

“I could tell you about how much your mistake is going to cost us - but you probably don’t care, if you were to understand at all.” Sehyoon’s voice was steady and unwavering. Yuchan could focus on nothing else, his breaths coming out stuttered, half-forgotten.

“And that’s fine. I don’t pick up little kids like you off the street with the expectation that you will understand. You have been trying to do your job, I know that. Byeongkwan likes you. Junhee likes you. I take those kinds of things into consideration.

“But, we still have to train you like any other dog. We have to teach you loyalty. Discipline. What family is about.” Yuchan’s breath hitched as Sehyoon finished talking and Donghun stood, cigarette jutting from his lips. He couldn’t help taking a step back in fear as the larger man walked forward to grab his arm, yanking him forward and twisting him around. 

The heel of his foot knocked into the back of Yuchan’s knees, crashing him forward into the desk. He gasped, his chin smashing into the wood, feeling nothing but that point of pain, his arms and legs numb with fear.

Sehyoon stood up from the chair so that Yuchan could not easily see him. From the corner of his eye, he could see Sehyoon reach over him to take Donghun’s cigarette from his mouth and take a few draws of his own.

He leant down, enough that Yuchan could feel his breath caress his face. He wouldn’t have thought god smelled like cologne and smoke.

His hand came to cup the front of Yuchan’s face, cigarette slotted between his first and second finger and pressing against Yuchan’s lips. Unsure what to do, wanting the nightmare to end, Yuchan drew air in, feeling the dark, roasted burn in his chest. He breathed in too much smoke and spluttered out a cough.

Sehyoon hummed and withdrew his hand.

“Let’s see if we can’t make a good boy out of you, yet.” Sehyoon’s hand disappeared above the line of his vision. 

A pinprick that exploded white-hot pressed down into the back of his neck as Sehyoon snuffed the cigarette out on the skin there. Yuchan shouted, the noise dying in his throat as the burn took all his focus. Donghun grabbed and twisted his other arm as he attempted to thrash away.

Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes as the pain continued to climb, splitting through the back of his neck. He gave another cry as Sehyoon crushed the butt of the cigarette further, the heat there unrelenting. It continued, even when Sehyoon finally withdrew his hand, throwing the finished butt onto the desk. Yuchan trembled, his skin feeling raw and open.

Donghun pulled, throwing him back down onto the floor. Yuchan could barely catch himself with his hands as he landed on all fours, aching and trembling. 

He made no sound as Donghun kicked him hard in the side, rolling him onto his back. He curled in on himself, the pain resonating through his chest as the ribs there bruised. The tears began to fall, dripping down onto the floor tile.

He didn’t register the two moving around him, but Sehyoon was suddenly kneeling by his side, his frame outlined by the moonlight from the windows behind him. Sehyoon wrapped a hand around the front of his neck, applying enough pressure to pull Yuchan forward so that he scrambled to his knees, uncoordinated and shaking through the pain. 

“Looks like they cut your pretty face, but it’s not too bad. Should I add to it?” He said nothing, Sehyoon’s face blurred through his tears and tremors.

The hand around his neck withdrew and Yuchan’s vision exploded brightly as Sehyoon struck him. Yuchan fell to his right, reeling, whimpering. He felt hot blood pour down his cheek, the cut opened and stretched with Sehyoon’s fist. There was blood in his mouth, too, pooling and dripping down his lips. 

Sehyoon grabbed him again by his shirt collar. Yuchan hung his head, unable to hold himself up.

“Do you want to die tonight?” The grip on his shirt tightened, the fingers digging at the skin of his collarbone. His tears fell freely, his face stung, every bone ached. Yuchan made a noise, desperate and weak. Sehyoon seemed to understand.

“Haven’t we treated you well, Chan-ah? We gave you a home, clothed and fed you. You have brothers now. A purpose in life. Why did you disobey us?” Yuchan shook his head vigorously with the last of his energy, despite how it made him want to puke.

“I didn’t mean to, I was wrong. I’m … I’m sorry.” He could only whisper, pleading and crying. He felt the pain of betraying Byeongkwan, Junhee, all the rest of them. Donghun and his hyungnim. It tasted like blood and salt and burned like fire. 

He was so alone without them, so scared. He had no life to go back to - he needed this.

“Will you be a good boy from now on?” Sehyoon’s voice dropped to a whisper, too.

“Yes. Please … I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good.” Sehyoon released his hold on him, Yuchan falling forward and catching himself on his elbows with a groan. He could hear the clicking of the soles of his leather shoes on the tile.

“I like to hear that, Chan-ah. But how do I know that’s not an empty promise?” Yuchan looked up and watched as Sehyoon took a seat on the low couch on one side of the room. He withdrew another cigarette, a pack stashed away inside his suit jacket, a lighter procured from another pocket.

He crawled, bloody teardrops splashing down onto his hands as he slowly made his way over, not daring to look up. Wondered what kind of sight he made on his hands and knees, wondered what would be enough. How far he had to go, how far he _wanted_ to go for his family - for his hyungnim.

He stopped when Sehyoon’s shoes came into view. Yuchan looked up slowly, his head coming up between Sehyoon’s legs which were casually splayed out. He was leaning back in the seat, a blank expression on his face. Waiting, but not curious; equal parts amused and unconcerned. Yuchan swallowed, the silence between them heavy.

He reached up, his hand reaching towards Sehyoon’s cigarette. Sehyoon leaned forward to hand it to him without hesitation, a suggestion of a smile on his face. 

Yuchan undid the first button of his shirt with one hand, the gray fabric wet and stained with blood, not all of it his. Stretching it out to reveal more of his skin, he brought the end of the cigarette to the top of his sternum and pressed it down.

The now familiar white heat overtook his senses as his hand trembled with the effort to stay still through the pain. He bared his teeth and groaned, fixing his eyes on Sehyoon through it all.

Sehyoon smiled and shifted forward so he was seated on the edge of the couch, pulling Yuchan’s hand away from where it crushed the cigarette against his chest. Yuchan gasped as Sehyoon slipped his fingers through his, the butt falling to the floor, wasted.

“That’s a good boy.” Yuchan let his eyes fall closed, the praise shuddering through him and echoing through the hollow pain of his body. Sehyoon brought his other hand to lift Yuchan’s chin up higher.

Sehyoon’s thumb ran along Yuchan’s bottom lip, furtive and questioning. Yuchan returned Sehyoon’s gaze, eyes hazy but still determined. 

His thumb pressed in to slot between Yuchan’s teeth, and he opened his mouth willingly. His lips closed loosely around the finger, the drying blood mixing with the spit on his lips and staining the skin red. A dark expression passed Sehyoon’s face.

He feigned pulling his hand away, but Yuchan’s mouth followed along with him, his teeth not immediately letting go. Sehyoon lowered his head.

“You’ve done enough. I believe you.” With that, Yuchan let Sehyoon withdraw his hand. He stared up at his hyungnim.

“I can do more. I want to do more.” 

Sehyoon gave him a careful look.

“Do you think I want more from you?” Yuchan felt a flare of daring, the type that had plunged him into dangerous situations and allowed him to survive them.

Yuchan brought his hands up to take Sehyoon’s fingers back, drawing two into his mouth. He licked around them generously, the remaining blood in his mouth and on his lips mixing with the scent of tobacco from Sehyoon’s hands and overwhelming him with a sweet headiness.

“Tell Byeongkwan and Junhee to go home. You can wait downstairs.” Donghun got up from where he had been leaning on the desk, watching and smoking. A few quiet footfalls, the sound of the door shutting, and then the two were suddenly alone.

Yuchan ran his lips and tongue along the length of Sehyoon’s fingers, not entirely sure of what he was doing, but eager to make Sehyoon react in even some small way. Sehyoon made a pleased sound, a huff of air ruffling a few strands of Yuchan’s hair.

“What would you like to give me?” Yuchan paused, caught off guard by Sehyoon’s change in tone. Gentler. No longer domineering; not callous; not cold. The barest hint of warmth.

He let Sehyoon’s fingers fall from his mouth and drag wetness down his chin before Yuchan pushed himself further up on his knees. He felt lightheaded and dizzy, his wounds pounding with every beat of his heart. But he also felt invigorated.

He reached up to the button of Sehyoon’s slacks with trembling hands and wondered how quickly Sehyoon would notice he had no idea what he was doing. He leaned over, his upper body in Sehyoon’s lap as he used one hand to push down his underwear, the other to take his half-hard erection in hand. So, he did have an effect. Even with his tears, bloody face, and youth.

Yuchan tried to think back on the handful of mouths that had been on him and did his best to replicate what he thought felt good. He slid his mouth over the length, his tongue coming up to protrude over his bottom teeth as he sucked Sehyoon in.

He could hear Sehyoon inhale deeply above him, but he scarcely moved. He filled inside of Yuchan’s mouth, who quickly realized how difficult it was to take even a quarter of Sehyoon’s hardness. His jaw immediately ached with the stretch, the skin around the cut on his cheek stinging and threatening to stretch open again.

He used his other hand to squeeze around the base of Sehyoon’s cock as he did his best to coordinate his movements up and down his length. Sehyoon mercifully did not force himself deeper, though Yuchan did his best to take as much as he could in. 

“Chan-ah.” Gentle fingers coursed through his hair and tugged lightly, Yuchan popping off, his jaw sore. He breathed in deeply, catching his breath.

Sehyoon reached to take both of Yuchan’s hands in his, setting them down on his legs. His expression was light, open, and unbothered.

“Stand up.” Yuchan gathered himself, putting his weight on Sehyoon’s knees before standing up fully. He did his best to ignore the rush of blood that flowed through his cramped legs, leaving his head spinning and black dots in his vision.

Sehyoon slid his own hands up his thighs, tucking himself back in neatly, the button clasped as if nothing had happened.

“You didn’t answer my question, Yuchan. What do you want to give me? I have your loyalty and respect now, don’t I?” 

Yuchan gaped. Silence passed between them, and he realized Sehyoon wanted him to speak.

“I … want to show you how grateful I am. I want to - to dedicate everything to you, my whole life. I don’t … I’ll even give you my body. If you want it.”

“Did _you_ want that before tonight?” Yuchan felt another shiver run down his spine, thought of the useless nights he had spent grinding up into his own hand to relieve all the tension he carried from work. Sehyoon killing a dongsaeng had scared him, _thrilled_ him, set right in his mind what the laws were - in such stark contrast to the depraved disorder he had lived in before. He had made a mistake, but he would obey.

Yuchan nodded. Sehyoon cocked his head, and his easy expression slipped away.

“Then, strip.” Yuchan’s hands went for the buttons of his shirt, trembling. He was just glad to not be outright rejected by his hyungnim, laughed at for thinking a mere pawn could touch greatness. But, all roads of his devotion had led him here.

He let the loose button-down fall off his arms, the chill in the room prickling his skin. Some blood had splattered on his collarbones and he could see the dark blotch of skin where Donghun had kicked him, in awe at how battered he must already look. He didn’t look up to see the expression on Sehyoon's face.

Yuchan’s hands undid the button of his own pants. He considered for a moment before pushing them down swiftly along with his underwear, feeling the awkwardness of performing the movement in front of someone. He stepped out, letting the fabric pull his sneakers off. 

He was soft, but looking up to see Sehyoon staring intently back at him sent shock through him. He instinctively hugged his arms around his shoulders as blood started to fill his cock, a warmness in his navel despite the cold.

“It’s not often our recruits are so beautiful.” Yuchan paused.

“Is it often they strip naked in front of you?” Sehyoon laughed.

“No. Come; sit.” Sehyoon leaned back fully, nodding his head towards his lap.

Yuchan hesitantly lifted a knee to rest on the seat beside Sehyoon’s leg. Sehyoon slid a hand up his other thigh, gently pulling the other leg up his other side. Yuchan awkwardly straddled his thighs in this way, could feel the embarrassment of having his legs stretched apart over his lap. He didn’t dare meet Sehyoon’s eyes, his hands sliding up his own shoulders to caress his neck impulsively. Avoiding the back where the skin still prickled painfully.

“Did you ever touch yourself while thinking about me?” Yuchan’s eyelids fluttered closed as he could feel blood and heat rush into his cheeks. A tiny whine escaped his throat. Sehyoon allowed him a moment.

“Yes.”

“Show me how.” As if the last restraint holding him back was snapped off, Yuchan raised his hand to spit into his palm before wrapping it tight around his cock. He groaned, his hand cold and slick, something needy and desperate manifesting in him.

He gasped, feeling sensitive, naked and on display in front of Sehyoon.

He felt Sehyoon’s gaze burning through him, his eyes glimmering in the moonlight. After only a little while, Yuchan slowed his hand, too worked up to understand what was going on, but understanding he was about to come. 

Sehyoon could read the question in his movements, brought his hands up to take Yuchans’ where they wrapped around himself, pulling the sticky palms towards his shoulders. He took the head of Yuchan’s cock into his mouth before bobbing his head forward, tongue pressed against the underside.

Yuchan cried, the tight heat of his mouth sudden and overwhelming. He came immediately, curling over Sehyoon, gripping rhythmically at his shoulders. Sehyoon didn’t let him go until he was spent, his thighs clenching around Sehyoon’s own. He let himself fall back as Sehyoon pushed him down onto the couch, leaning over him with a knee in between his legs.

He tipped Yuchan’s chin up before connecting their lips, letting his come fall from his mouth into Yuchan’s pliant one. Yuchan swallowed it down, trying not to choke on it, the taste bitter and grounding. Sehyoon withdrew, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. 

Yuchan shook with lingering pleasure coursing through his body, offering no resistance as Sehyoon’s arms came to hook under his legs and shoulders, picking him up easily. 

He felt dizzy, the movement of being lifted enough to send his sensitive body reeling. The air of the office was cold on his skin, but a fire seemed to burn just underneath the surface, flickering up at points like his swelling cheek, the back of his neck, the top of his sternum, the sweet ache continuing to burn inside his pelvis.

Sehyoon laid him on the top of his desk, which was wide enough to support his top half, Sehyoon putting pressure on his knees so that he folded them against his stomach. Yuchan heard the smooth slide of a drawer and the cap of something clicking open through the fog of sensations. 

Suddenly, cold fingers were probing behind his balls and Yuchan shot up, squeezing his legs tightly together as he placed a hand on Sehyoon’s chest. He gripped the fabric of his shirt, his eyes wide and not understanding. Sehyoon waited, his hand unmoving.

Yuchan let out a breathy sigh before loosening his grip, though he didn’t let go and Sehyoon let his finger press further in. Yuchan tensed, oversensitive from inexperience and having just come, but he didn't stop Sehyoon’s intrusion.

He felt his finger still inside him, allowing him to adjust, and Yuchan attempted to breathe around it. The fullness felt so foreign and uncomfortable until Sehyoon started to slowly move.

He pulled out before pulsing back in, and Yuchan gasped at the strangeness, the rush from the nerve fibers that had never felt the sensation before. 

One became three with the passage of only a few minutes, the squelching from the extra lube added obscene in the quiet of the room. Yuchan’s breathing came in gasps as his fingers gripped aimlessly for purchase on the wood grain of the desk, having fallen from where they held onto Sehyoon. He couldn’t help it, Sehyoon’s fingers plummeting inside him, the pressure they made at the end of their reach immense and overwhelming.

He was hard again, leaking, his body a trembling, wet mess displayed on the pedestal that was Sehyoon’s desk. Sehyoon had remained fixated on Yuchan, seemingly unperturbed by the effort he expended to stretch Yuchan open, the aching hardness on the scrawny boy before him.

With his other unoccupied hand, he reached into his inside pocket again. The slide of the paper of another cigarette against the cardboard pack was interspersed by Yuchan’s moans. Yuchan stole another look at the dark figure above him, watched as Sehyoon lit the cigarette with a flick of his lighter. The sight thrilled him.

Sehyoon took a drag and Yuchan broke. He tugged on the elbow of Sehyoon’s arm as best he could as he rocked on Sehyoon’s hand. Sehyoon turned his head to exhale, ashing what excess there was off the butt into the space behind him, before bringing his hand down and touching the end of the cigarette to Yuchan’s chest.

He groaned, all sensation rushing to that point of heat, the fingers deep inside him pushing pleasure up into him that reached all the way up to his chest, mixing and blooming with the burn. He cried out fully as Sehyoon rolled the cigarette slightly in his fingers, the end touching new centimeters of skin. 

Sehyoon withdrew the hand with the cigarette as Yuchan tensed every muscle, pleasure shooting straight down his spine, carrying the aching burn down with it. It exploded up through his skin, white hot and numbingly cold all at once as he came again, hard enough to spot his chest with come. He trembled uncontrollably as Sehyoon continued to rock his fingers in, his pace slower but steady.

Yuchan moaned, high and airy as the sensations flooded him, and suddenly he could no longer feel the desk underneath him or the cool air on his skin. He was floating in blackness, every single nerve fiber firing at once, both hot and cold, no longer part of his body; just a formless being of sensation, of pleasure, of burning as if on fire.

The last thing he saw before slipping into unconsciousness was Sehyoon watching him carefully, the cigarette back in his mouth, the end of it a brilliant pinpoint of light.

\---

“Chan-ah … Channie … Chan … YUCHAN!”

Yuchan’s eyes opened. Byeongkwan was looking down at him, though not unkindly. Blindingly bright light flared through the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up one wall of the ... apartment? That they were in. 

“Huh?”

“Come on, it’s already past noon. You’ve been resting long enough.” Yuchan pushed himself upright, the blanket sliding off his shoulders. The silky soft, feather down blanket on a plush bed that was most certainly not his.

“What?” Yuchan looked around blearily. 

Byeongkwan rolled his eyes.

“We’re in hyungnim’s apartment. Me and Junhee-hyung,” he gestured over his shoulder where Junhee was bustling around the kitchen on the other side of the apartment, “are here to pick your stupid ass up. Well, after some breakfast for you. Us. Come on, I'm hungry.”

Hyungnim. The title startled Yuchan even more awake, his heart suddenly hammering.

“Hyungnim? Is this … is this his - ?!” Byeongkwan closed his eyes, his patience clearly wearing a little thin.

“It’s not like he lives here. I’m pretty sure we’ve mentioned this place to you before, this is just a spot hyungnim lets some of us use - the ones he trusts.” Yuchan’s eyes darted between Byeongkwan’s.

“Ah, do you think - do you … is hyungnim still mad at me?” Byeongkwan snorted.

“You sound like a little brat.” Yuchan felt the heat flare in his cheeks.

“If he was 'still mad at you’, you wouldn’t be here right now. You’d be lying cold and dead in a ditch with one of my bullets … right here.” Byeongkwan paused for dramatic effect, jabbing his forefinger between Yuchan’s brows. The gesture was oddly comforting despite the disturbing image Byeongkwan detailed.

“I’m … Byeongkwan-hyung, I’m sorry for causing you trouble.” Byeongkwan looked curiously back.

“You caused the family trouble, _that_ was what caused me trouble. And hyungnim has obviously forgiven you, so I forgive you, too. Me; Junhee-hyung; everyone.” 

"But ... but, I killed someone! Aren't we all in danger now?" Byeongkwan made a noncommittal noise.

"I mean, yes, we're in danger and it _is_ your fault, but we're always in danger. We'll worry about what to do later, when hyungnim has a plan figured out. Until then, eat, and enjoy the fact you're still alive!" Yuchan thought of Sehyoon at his desk on his computer, soft eyes behind steel, wire rims. He gave a sigh.

Yuchan hung his head in supplication and Byeongkwan took him by the shoulders, giving the top of his head a kiss in a way that Yuchan would not admit prickled tears into his eyes. One of his hand’s came to rub over the back of Yuchan’s neck, and he jolted away.

“Ah! Sorry.” Yuchan’s hand came up to probe where Byeongkwan had touched.

“ … Who bandaged me? Did … did someone bathe me?” Yuchan’s hands roamed over the wounds on his chest, neck, and face, all stuck with gauze pads. The dull aching pains from yesterday had dissipated somewhat, and his skin no longer felt like it was on the verge of tearing open.

Byeongkwan shrugged, unperturbed. “I don’t know, Donghun-hyung probably brought you here. I definitely recommend giving your balls a good soap next time you shower, hyung neglected that the last time he bathed me.” Byeongkwan gave another small roll of his eyes.

Yuchan could only splutter wide-eyed. He would have to ask after that story another time. Byeongkwan’s uncouth reference to his genitals had prompted last night’s memories to come to the forefront of Yuchan’s mind.

“Come on, let’s eat!” Junhee’s voice rang from the other side of the room as he placed three dishes with promising heaps of food at the counter.

Yuchan gave the sight a small smile, Byeongkwan leaving him on the bed and gleefully running to the kitchen. There was still much to unpack, but he could feel the sweet relief of their acceptance.

He joined them at the kitchen bar, and felt comforted despite the distress of killing his assailant last night and the brush with death at the hands of Sehyoon. But he had repented, shown his loyalty (and a little more), and he felt he understood his part in the fold more clearly for it.

This was life with his new family. Brutish, rugged, and passionate. He would have it no other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :) Please come talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/wthnyrslfinstd).


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